'Thailand's Mr Bean' makes new friends

'Thailand's Mr Bean' makes new friends

A Thai reader recently asked me the meaning of the expression ''not the full shilling''. He was referring to remarks by Scottish snooker star Stephen Maguire about Thailand's Dechawat Poomjaeng, who beat Maguire in a huge upset in the world championship a couple of weeks ago. A classic underdog, Dechawat won over the crowd, commentators and TV audience with his unintentionally comical behaviour, prompting references to him as ''Thailand's Mr Bean''.

During the match he twice succeeded in getting lost when making his grand entrance, accidentally knocked over a bottle of water, applauded his own shots, apologised when he had good fortune and kept smiling throughout. The normally hushed audience was in hysterics. The Daily Mail called him ''a cue-wielding cross between Norman Wisdom and Jacques Tati''.

Afterwards, a bewildered Maguire remarked: ''It was the most bizarre match I've ever played in. I don't think he's the full shilling.'' This is possibly not the most diplomatic comment, being a euphemism for someone who, to put it politely, is ''a bit different'', or less politely ''a few satang short of a baht''. I'm sure Maguire used the expression in the most respectful sense, meaning Dechawat was a trifle ''eccentric''.

Blame it on Rowan

Rowan Atkinson's Mr Bean became hugely popular in Thailand primarily because the humour was almost entirely visual. They were actually thinking of calling the Mr Bean series Mr Carrot or Mr Cauliflower until the producers sensibly settled for the smaller vegetable. This is probably just as well, as I fear Thai kids might have got into bit of a tangle trying to pronounce ''Cauliflower''.

In Britain, Atkinson really made his mark with the inspired Blackadder series before the emergence of Mr Bean. Playing an important part in the appeal of Blackadder were the numerous painful put-downs used by Atkinson in the title role against assorted friends and adversaries.

One poor fellow regularly on the receiving end of this verbal demolition was a character called Lord Percy. In one episode, Blackadder comments: ''The eyes are open, the mouth moves, but Mr Brain has long since departed, hasn't he, Percy?''

The wrath of Basil

Television situation comedies are bursting with put-downs. On a flight recently I caught bit of a Fawlty Towers episode called Basil the Rat. Concerned that his hotel might not pass the health inspector's test, an increasingly exasperated Basil lets fly at his wife Sybil, who as usual appears to have spent all morning at the reception desk gossiping on the phone or studying her nails.

There's the following exchange:

Sybil: ''Don't shout at me, I've had a difficult morning.''

Basil: ''Oh dear, what happened? Did you get entangled in the eiderdown again? Not enough cream in your eclair? Hmm? Or did you have to talk to all your friends for so long that you didn't have time to perm your ears?''

'Life on Mars'

There is something about a put-down that is very satisfying. It is not quite as demeaning as an insult, as you feel the person at the receiving end probably deserves it. There was a classic exchange in the British detective series Life On Mars between policeman Sam Tyler and his politically incorrect boss DCI Hunt.

DCI Hunt: ''I think you've forgotten who you're talking to.''

Sam: ''An overweight, over-the-hill, nicotine-stained, borderline-alcoholic homophobe with a superiority complex and an unhealthy obsession with male bonding.''

DCI Hunt: ''You make that sound like a bad thing.''

Wily Winston

The above example came from television scriptwriters, but put-downs in real life can be much more acerbic. They also require spontaneity. I can never think of a smart response until it is too late to have an effect.

Arguably one of the most famous put-downs of all times came from the lips of Winston Churchill in an exchange with politician Nancy Astor. Everyone knows it, but it is still worthy of mention.

In a heated exchange, politician Lady Astor commented: ''Winston, if I were your wife I would put poison in your coffee.'' Churchill responded immediately with: ''Nancy, If I were your husband, I would drink it.''

A master at verbal jousting, Churchill wasn't bad with the written word either. George Bernard Shaw once sent Churchill an invitation which had bit of a sting in the tail: ''I am enclosing two tickets for the first night of my new play. Bring a friend if you have one.'' Churchill came up with a cutting response: ''Cannot attend the first night. Will attend second night if there is one.''

Sounds of discord

There's an often-quoted case when American film producer Billy Wilder met an up and coming pop star and remarked: ''You have Van Gogh's ear for music'', to which the unidentified singer replied ''Gee, thanks!'' .

Even classical composers were not immune to put-downs, especially Germany's Richard Wagner. It was novelist Mark Twain who offered the following back-handed compliment: ''Wagner's music is better than it sounds.''

In the literary world they didn't pull punches either. William Faulkner once said of Ernest Hemingway: ''He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary.''

A final word from actress Elizabeth Taylor: ''Some of my best leading men have been dogs and horses.''


Contact PostScript via email at oldcrutch@hotmail.com

Roger Crutchley

Bangkok Post columnist

A long time popular Bangkok Post columnist. In 1994 he won the Ayumongkol Literary Award. For many years he was Sports Editor at the Bangkok Post.

Email : oldcrutch@gmail.com

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